Sour Grapes
by marble eyes
Summary: Paul Browning has a bad day at the office. Warning: contains three seconds of Will Savage, a wet Patrick Blake, a rubber duck, a hungry dog and Ste Hay with his new Brendan replacement...in other words this fic is just completely nuts. Read at your own peril if you dare...


**Warning! It's not very often an author warns you off there own fic, but I feel this is the time too :P Inspired by a conversation with the lovely Mercurial. Fic contains traces of silliness and absolutely madness. Not advisable to read unless you want to enter the madness of this authoress weird and warped brain. There is no plot, this is merely just a little walk into the weird. If you're still here after all that….wow and please enjoy! **

Paul Browning was not having a good day. It had started badly and was now taking an even more dramatic turn for the worst. He'd woken up late and found Mercy in the kitchen making him toast. To anyone else this would seem a thoughtful gesture, but with each meal Mercy made was the risk that she would one day kill him with food poisoning. The toast of course had ended up being black, burnt to a cinder and he'd forced himself to eat it while smiling. It could have been worse; it could have been the congealed baked beans she'd made him yesterday on raw white bread.

He'd forced himself into work only for a baby to spew up all over him while he was examining them. The day continued with a fungal infection, a smelly old man and he had been forced to see his soon to by mother in law naked during a terrifying check up. Paul would make sure to wash out his eyes with bleach when he got home. During his lunch break things had taken a much darker turn. He'd come out of the Deli holding his favourite sandwich: Texas rib eye steak pieces smothered in BBQ sauce. Of course Paul wasn't the only one to take an interest in his choice of filling. Just ordering it had caused Doug behind the counter to start sobbing hysterically, he was sure he'd seen the man stroking and kissing the steak packaging as he left. That Doug was a strange one alright.

He was just about to take a bite of his sandwich when a Jack Russell jumped from nowhere and snatched it from his hand. In seconds he watched as his prized sandwich disappeared down the dog's throat. The damn thing then decided to cock its leg up and pee all over his best shoes. Paul had stood there in shock while the whole thing happened and he was about to inflict some karma on the horrible thing when he noticed Will Savage was sat behind him laughing.

'What's so funny?' he asked the boy.

'Just looks like karma's starting to catch up to you, doesn't it?' said Will bravely.

'You know what?' said Paul. 'I've have enough of you.'

In seconds he pushed the wheelchair around and pushed it harshly towards the river. He hadn't meant for it to gather speed or to go sailing over the edge. Sometimes murder just happened and this was one of those occasions. He stood there in shock as Will's screams filled the air, before he crashed into the water and disappeared into the murky brown depths of the river. Paul looked behind his shoulder and realised no-one had been around to witness it other than the Jack Russell dog who had sat next to him at the rivers edge watching the spot in the water Will had disappeared into.

'Oh my god, I killed Will.' said Browning.

The dog barked in agreement.

'You're right.' he said to the dog. 'I should have done it years ago.' For a moment he stood staring at the air bubbles rising up to the surface of the river. He felt nothing but relief as a pair of glasses floated up to the surface. With any luck Will would stay dead and no one would find him for years. The bottom of a river was the best place for him.

He made his way back to the doctor's surgery with a new spring in his step. Perhaps this day was turning out better than he'd expected, even if he'd lost his favourite sandwich.

'Oh thank god.' cried Sienna Blake when she saw him return from lunch. 'I need you to come with me, there's something wrong with my dad.'

'I can't just...' started Paul, but he couldn't continue. The woman had the strength of a super hero, and he found himself being dragged to the Blake's flat. As he came through the door Sienna pointed towards the bathroom.

'It's bad.' she whispered. 'His OCD has come back. I need you to get him out of there. He's been taking baths five times a day.'

She pushed him into the bathroom and Paul almost let out a cry of surprise at what he saw: Patrick Blake was in a bubble bath happily playing away with a little yellow duck.

'Hello Mr Blake.' said Paul awkwardly. The bubbles were thin on the ground and he could see more than a little yellow duck floating in the water. 'Your daughter is very worried, don't you think it's time you got out the bath.'

Patrick acted like he hadn't heard Paul. 'What do you think Mr Duck?' he said to the toy in his hand. 'Do you think it's time to get out? Quack, quack? Sorry he said no.'

'Mr Blake I want you to get out the bath.'

Patrick looked up and met his eyes. 'No. Mr Duck doesn't want to and you don't want to make Mr Duck angry.'

'I'm not afraid of Mr Duck.' Paul rolled up his shirt sleeves; he was going to do more than make Mr Duck angry in a minute. He grabbed Patrick's arms and tried to pull him out of the bath.

'No!' shouted Patrick.

An hour later Paul emerged from the Blake's flat soaking wet and several bruises where Mr Duck had savagely attacked him. Paul hadn't released rubber ducks made such brilliant weapons, made he should invest in one in the future. He decided to call it a day and head to Chez Chez instead. He sighed in contentment as he let himself into the club; he was going to hide out in the office away from the outside world.

He pushed open the office door and let out a girlish scream. Steven Hay was sat in the office with his feet up on the desk wearing nothing but his boxers. That wasn't the most worrying part, the most worrying part was the giant pillow sat in a chair dressed in Brendan Brady's clothes with an angry moustache and a face drawn on it with felt tip pen.

'Do you mind?' said Ste, 'We're a bit busy in here.'

Paul nearly turned to leave, but suddenly paused. 'Hang on a minute, this is my club. You shouldn't even be in here and what do you mean you're busy?'

Ste helped himself to a grape from a bowl of them on the table and slipped it erotically between his lips. 'Me and Bren are having some alone time.'

'Alone time? You do realise that's a pillow you're talking about right?' asked Paul.

'Shh!' said Ste angrily, covering the pillow's ears. 'Don't talk about him like that, you'll make him angry. You won't like it when he's angry.' He pulled out a can of spray cream and squirted it over his chest. 'Are you going to leave the two of us alone, or what?' he started to press his chest into the pillows face.

'Stop that!' shouted Browning. 'I want you to get out.'

'I'm not going anywhere.' said Ste, 'It's our club now. I shot gunned it first.'

'You can't shot gun a club.'

Ste shot him an annoyed look. 'Yes you can, you obvious don't know the rules of shot gun. Look even Bren's agreeing with me.' he made the pillow nod.

'I'll call the police.' said Browning threateningly.

'You do that.' said Ste,' bending down and place his lips on the drawn on smile with pointy triangle teeth. 'Me and Bren have never done it in a jail cell before and the whole handcuff thing will be dead kinky.'

'Arg!' screamed Paul, he stormed out the room and slammed the door behind him. He would go back later and kick Ste out. He also made a note to clean the entire office with bleach, god knows what Ste and the now imprisoned Brendan Brady had done in there. He didn't stop walking until he was back in his flat with Mercy.

'Good day babe?' she asked.

Paul merely grunted and threw himself down onto the bed. This was the worst day ever, but on the plus side at least Will was dead!


End file.
